Delirium
by Videlicet Lacrima
Summary: She’s privately questioned her sanity since the age of 11. Now, when the world around her is crumbling, that selfdoubt will come back to haunt her. OotP
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Delirium is like a vivid dream to me. I'm trying my best to portray it to you the way I see it.

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Chapter 1

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The hallways, corridors, rooms, alcoves, secret passageways, and staircases of number 12, Grimmuald Place creaked constantly. Harsh wind battered tree limbs into the side of the foreboding house and heavy winter rain lashed the ancient glass of the windows and the old roof relentlessly, as though someone were beating each shingle and pane of glass with a drum stick with a steady, easily detected, annoying rhythm.

The dust and grit stirred up in the air during daylight hours never quite settled; instead it drifted lazily through vague, dim moonlight that attempted to shine through the clouds and windows to the noisy wooden planks that served as floors on every level of the horrible house. In the morning those floors would be as grimy and dirty as they had been before the daily cleaning ritual, which would, in turn, only last until that night when still air would allow the dust to once more settle.

The occupants of Black Manor were, in that moment, tucked snugly into their musty, moth-eaten beds, warm despite the chewed-out holes in their blankets. Each individual rested as peacefully as could be expected in such troubled times.

Ginny Weasley could not sleep. She made a muffled noise of frustration into her pillow so as not to wake her room-mate, the one-year-older Hermione Granger. She threw off her covers, rolled out of bed, and draped a long, dark blue robe on over her pyjamas.

Tip-toeing to the door, Ginny paused only once to peek back at Hermione's still form through a curtain of her fiery Weasley hair to make sure she didn't wake.

But once she was outside the room, she didn't quite know where to go. Ginny pondered a moment; she knew the kitchen and downstairs by heart, having helped scour it herself. The drawing room was out – she'd had enough of it that summer. With that in mind, and having no where else to go without disturbing those who slumbered, Ginny set out to visit Buckbeak, the hippogriff Sirius kept in his parents' old bedroom.

She climbed the creaking steps as close to the wall as possible to reduce the amount of noise she made. Her bare feet slowly numbed in the cold of early morning in late December.

Despite the lightened atmosphere in the old house, Ginny was still worried for her father, who had been bitten by Voldemort's snake, Nagini, just before Christmas break started. He had been recovering well at St. Mungo's, but when Voldemort was involved, one never knew what would go wrong at the worst possible moment.

The next floor housed only Ginny's brothers, the infamous twin pranksters, Fred and George, and Bill Weasley while he slept those few hours he could before returning to work. Not worrying about waking anyone of that particular level, Ginny sprinted across the landing to the next set of stairs, leading up to where her mother, Molly, slept across the hall from the man who owned the house, Sirius Black.

Trying her best to make even less noise than the dust she nearly sneezed on, Ginny crept with agonising slowness past those first two rooms. She could hear the restless tossing from Sirius's room even louder than her own breathing. There wasn't so much as a peep from her mother's room, however, and Ginny smiled, reasonably satisfied with her luck and skills.

There were a few more rooms on this floor, however, than the two on most of the others. There were another three doors on Ginny's right, in line with Sirius's room, and another two on her left. Ginny briefly contemplated on running the rest of the way, but decided that she didn't entirely trust the floors. Instead she walked slowly, still trying to be quiet, and glanced behind herself every few seconds to make sure she was alone.

But, making things so much easier for the poor 14 year old girl, on the last floor, the only room besides a bathroom was the previous bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Black. Ginny eased the door to the bedroom open on squealing hinges and slipped past it cautiously, upon which she let out a relieved sigh.

Buckbeak looked up from his position dozing on the floor curiously. He clicked his beak at Ginny and put his head back down, his large eye still trained on her warily. Ginny picked up the sack of dead rats lying near the door and walked to the huge animal. She paused a suitable distance away to bow without breaking eye contact. Buckbeak half rose and bowed back, eyeing the sack hungrily.

Ginny laughed and reached into the bag to toss him a rat. "I couldn't sleep," she confessed, settling herself next to him with her legs crossed. "I don't know why. Well, I do, but I just don't like to think about it."

Buckbeak squawked and Ginny shushed him hurriedly.

"You'll wake someone," she reprimanded softly. Then she sighed heavily. "You know, ever since first year, with Tom and the diary and the Chamber of Secrets, I've wondered. That's what keeps me up on nights like this."

Crunching another rat between his massive jaws, Buckbeak remained silent and watchful. Ginny smiled at him vaguely.

"My sanity," she explained as though he had asked the question. "Sometimes I think I'm going insane or like I already am, like I have been for years. But others… other times I think so logically that I know it must be impossible. And every time I make up my mind something happens to make me wonder…"

Buckbeak clicked his beak impatiently and nipped at Ginny's robe. She glanced down to the now empty bag of food and sighed again. "Sorry," she apologised. "I guess there isn't any more. Thanks for listening." She felt a little silly for thanking him, but did so nonetheless, in the spirit of politeness and Christmas.

Ginny stood and crept out of the room unhappily. Her little one-sided chat had resolved nothing and she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep at all, but there was no where else to go.

On the next level Ginny once again resumed her cautious tread and ducked her head for good measure, though she wasn't sure how much good a ducked head would do if she woke her mother or Sirius. She snuck past one closed door after another, her eyes fixed on the steps at the end of the hall.

Just as she set foot on the topmost step, a soft breeze swept the hall, ruffling Ginny's flaming hair. Her chocolate eyes widened and she whipped around, half expecting Molly to be standing right behind her with an angry look on her face. There was no one in the hall and no windows from which the wind could have issued, which had been to warm to come from the outdoors anyway.

What Ginny saw instead was that one of those precariously closed doors had swung open in her wake; the third door on the right, to be exact. Ginny let out a breath she'd been holding and shook her head at her own foolishness. Of course one of the doors would open – she and Hermione could barely get theirs to stay closed, especially when people were parading past it all day. Ginny went back quietly and grasped the door handle to close it. She paused, staring inside. It was a bedroom.

Wondering why Sirius had never mentioned another bedroom in the house, particularly one as large as this one was, Ginny poked her head in curiously. She was pleasantly surprised when the room appeared to be charmed to ward off dust and dirt and other sorts of household grime – it meant another room they didn't have to clean. Having nowhere else to go but her room and no desire to sleep, Ginny entered the area to explore a bit and find out who it had belonged to.

There was an elegant four-poster mahogany bed shoved into one corner, across from which a matching desk and uncomfortable looking high backed chair were positioned for a view of the outdoors. There were papers scattered on the desk, rolls of parchment across the floor and bed, and books on nearly every available flat surface and even a few that weren't.

The books ranged from old textbooks to books on dark magic to magical creatures to family histories and were stacked precariously atop one another. Obviously whoever this room belonged to had liked to read. Ginny was willing to bet whoever it was and Hermione would have gotten along famously.

The redhead soon spied an old wardrobe in the farthest corner, made of oak instead of mahogany and a little more beat up than the other furniture. She opened it inquisitively and found it to be full of robes in both the latest fashions and some that had to have been in style when her parents were her age. More books were stacked in the bottom of the wardrobe and threatened to topple out before Ginny snapped the door shut.

Ginny turned slowly on the spot, surveying the room with disgust. It must have been a boy's room, judging by the numerous sports posters and the style of the robes. It looked fairly well kept, a feat none of her brothers could have ever accomplished – besides that git Percy – and just in need of a bookshelf or four.

Picking up one of those books, Ginny traced a finger of the engraved title: Useful Magics for Inquiring Minds by Brandon Quince. She opened the book to the spot the owner had marked however many years ago he or she had finished, and scanned the section that detailed curses of all kinds and their generally violent nature. Uninterested, she turned to the first page and read the introduction:

_Welcome, my friends, _the author wrote,_ and good health to you all. As in my previous but more controversial novels, this book, Useful Magics for Inquiring Minds is devoted utterly and entirely to the arts which I myself have become consumed by, as we all will in time. But that is neither here nor there. Within you shall learn my secrets._

_In this last narrative, before I disappear from sight and mind, I give to you, avid reader, power beyond imagining. Useful, yes, and empowering, this knowledge goes the those select few that are brave enough, that are willing enough to pursue that which they most desire, whether it be money, power, or fame… Indeed, once you have finished with this book, all that you want shall become yours, as it was for me._

_And as I sit here, penning the last bit of my instructions to you for you to use as you see fit, I must give caution. Suspicion will follow those found in possession of any of my books, but especially this, which is highly dangerous and extremely complicated, even for the most advanced magic user._

_Go with caution, friend, proceed at your own risk, and best of luck on your difficult journey._

_Yours truly,_

_Brandon Quince_

Ginny turned the page and froze in shock, unable for a long, horrifying moment to take her eyes off the gruesome picture detailed upon it. She snapped the book shut quickly and dropped it as though it were a poisonous snake. What kind of horrid person would even consider reading a book like that? The answer was clear – a dark wizard. This had been the room of a dark wizard, and Ginny was poking about it when who- knew-what could be lying about, ready to kill her.

Her heart racing with adrenaline as her feet and brain demanded she leave immediately, Ginny spun about to rush to the door, only to be confronted by a man's chest. She gasped and jumped back, nearly knocking over a stack of books, and tilted her head up a bit to get a good look at his face – there was no sense in making a fuss if it was only Sirius or Bill.

It wasn't.

Ginny stared for only half a second at the man, at his angular, clean-shaven face, his too-long black hair, his grey-blue eyes; for only half a second she took in his neatly pressed black robes and sock covered feet, the wand in his hand, and the fact that she had never seen him in her life, before she sucked in a breath to scream, wishing too late that she hadn't left her wand on her bedside table next to the muggle book Hermione had lent her to read.

The man, sensing this, perhaps, dropped his wand and stepped forward. The stick of wood clattered to the ground noisily, just as Ginny's scream started to tear past her lips. The man covered her mouth with a large, soft hand and pulled her swiftly up against him before she could react so that she couldn't break free. Her shout successfully muffled, Ginny thrashed in his strong grip, trying to break free. The man held firm, whispering desperately for her to be quiet and let him explain.

Finally he simply snatched his wand from the floor, in the instant Ginny took to draw breath, and stunned her. Ginny stared at him with fear-widened, immobile eyes. The man returned her gaze sadly. He scratched the back of his head.

"I had forgotten how easily those doors blew open," he mumbled to himself. "It was my mistake and it won't happen again." He set Ginny down on the bed and stood next to her as though unsure of what to next. "Now that you aren't going to give me away," he said decisively, pulling the chair from the desk up next to the bed, "I suppose I should explain myself." Here, again, he paused, collecting his thoughts.

"We'll start with how I got in," he decided. "These windows aren't as heavily spelled as the rest of the house. As to how I found it… I've always known where this place was. No one could take that away from me, not even Albus Dumbledore. I've been here since before he spelled it, anyway. Since before Sirius came back, before he even escaped from Azkaban.

"My name…" He hesitated and surveyed Ginny. "You're, what, 13 or 14 years old?" Ginny, of course, didn't respond. The man seemed not to notice this and instead acted as though she had given some invisible sign to the affirmative. "You wouldn't know my exploits then, or at least not very well. I don't expect you to have heard of me; to most I'm just another dead Death Eater."

Ginny's eyes would have widened if she wasn't stuck. A Death Eater, in Order Headquarters?

"But if you've been _here_, in this retched house, long enough, I'm sure you were part of that cleaning crew that dusted out the drawing room." Again he seemed to be looking for some kind of sign from her, nodding in satisfaction when he found whatever he was looking for. "I'm on there, you know. Sirius was blasted off, of course, but I don't think I was. Mother and Father thought I'd died heroically, from what I understand. You see, my name's Regulus. Regulus Black."

His spell was beginning to wear off. Ginny twitched a finger, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the former Death Eater. He hurried on with his explanation. "Now, before you're set loose, I want you to know that I'll cause you no harm, nor will I hurt any within these walls. It doesn't help me keep up my 'dead' pretence. So please, don't scream. Don't give me away. I turned against the Dark Lord, against Voldemort—" Ginny would have shuddered at the name; she almost did. "—and that's why he sent Avery Nott after me. But Nott's not a particularly bright man; it was easy to fool him into thinking he'd killed me. I'd been worried about having to deal with someone like Severus Snape or Lucius Malfoy, but I got lucky." He looked at Ginny curiously. "What's your name?" he wondered suddenly.

Ginny sat up stiffly and scooted a little farther away. "Ginny Weasley," she answered. "Go on, finish your story."

"Well, Nott thought he blasted me to bits, much like the way people thought Pettigrew was blasted by Sirius, only _I_ didn't make the explosion like that cowardly little rat did. There was a crater and a body –don't think ill of me, it was necessary – and my wand shattered and everything. Of course the poor man whose body I dug up from a nearby cemetery was too badly mangled for anyone to get a proper identification. It all worked out to my advantage.

"And then I headed here, the only place I could think of. Mother was so distraught with grief – I faked my death only three months after Father died – that she refused to come out of her room. Not even Kreacher knew I was here. I don't think he does even now. And so I hid myself away from the world. I go out into the muggle part of the city to get my food and my clothes, although for some things I have to wander into the magical streets. I got a new wand, for example. Not as good as my first, but suitable nonetheless."

Ginny shook her head. "Someone would have found you… I'm sure they checked this place out, every room, before Dumbledore would let us use it as Order headquarters."

Regulus didn't seem to have an answer to that question. Instead he changed the subject. "So, Ginny, may I call you Ginny? Anyway, what are you doing up at this ungodly hour that caused you to walk past my room and inadvertently force me to reveal myself?"

"I couldn't sleep," she hedged. He didn't seem to suspect that she was holding any information back, to her relief, and merely looked curious.

Scratching his chin, Regulus watched Ginny thoughtfully for a minute. "Insomnia?" he asked finally?

Ginny shook her head. "Nerves. Too much going on for my mind to rest."

"The concept of war just set in?" he questioned with that infuriating all-knowing look adults used on kids just because they were older.

Ginny jumped at the excuse anyway and did her best to appear as though he'd seen through her thin charade. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I've been there," he responded quietly. "I'd like to tell you it gets easier but I'd be lying."

A feeling of strange, unbidden respect and pity for the man washed over her. Ginny stared out the window, attempting to hide that fact. "I'd rather not be lied to," she muttered frankly.

Regulus snorted, his eyes still trained on Ginny as though he thought she might jump up and run away screaming at any second. "I thought not. Aren't you tired, Ginny? I'm sure the portrait of my mother will wake everyone up in a couple hours. You would do well to try and get some sleep."

Ginny yawned despite herself. "I don't think I'll be able to," she said anyway. "You've given me a lot more to think about."

Regulus looked at her gravely. "Sleep, Ginny," he commanded. "It's not healthy to stay up all night."

Nodding vaguely, Ginny stared up at the ceiling of his room. "I should get back to my room before Hermione wakes up," she answered around another yawn.

Regulus continued watching the youngest Weasley. "Yes," he agreed quietly.

Ginny looked at him inquisitively through half lidded eyes. "If you're not a Death Eater anymore, why do you still have all these dark magic books?" she whispered tiredly.

"I couldn't very well just dump them out the window, now could I?" he asked gently. "Go to sleep, Ginny."

"I don't think I'll make it to my bed. Sorry."

"It's perfectly alright. I've got some work to do here at my desk anyway," he explained.

Ginny nodded again. "Thanks, Mr. Black."

"It's just Regulus, if you please."

"Alright…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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"Ginny…" Ginny groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore her mother's gentle voice as the woman tried to coax her out of bed. "Ginny, dear, it's almost breakfast time, wake up."

Ginny blinked blearily up at Molly's worried face. "I'm tired, Mum, can't I just sleep?"

"Oh, Ginny," Molly exclaimed in relief. "What on earth are you doing in here? It's horribly filthy and you should be sleeping in your own room, anyway. You had us all scared witless, what with Hermione coming in and saying you weren't in bed this morning and then you not answering us when we called!"

Recalling her encounter with an ex-Death Eater the previous night, Ginny sat bolt upright, nearly hitting Molly's chin. Sirius was standing just inside the door, his arms crossed and his eyes unfocused. He looked vaguely as though he were seeing and smelling something absolutely revolting.

"I'm sorry, Mum, but I couldn't sleep and then as I was headed back to my room this door just sort of… opened… I came in to explore and… Oh, Mum, there was a man in here, and we talked for a while and I guess I fell asleep. He said his name was—"

"Ginny, that's impossible," said Molly gently. "You look to be the only person who's been in here in ages."

Ginny looked around. The room was dust, except where her small footprints had disturbed the dust around the desk and wardrobe. The covers of all the books were grey and fuzzy, cobwebs laced between the piles and decorating the corners of the ceiling and walls. There was a small patch of visible dark green fabric on the bed where Ginny had curled up to sleep, but the rest was a musty and dirty as the room around it. Looking down at herself, Ginny saw that she was covered in the grit from her sleep; she must have tossed a bit in her sleep to gain the effective blanket of lint and dust that turned her a cloudy colour and lightened her dark hair.

"But…" Ginny was confused. Regulus had been in the room and it had been perfectly clean the night before. How could it have possibly acquired decades of filth in a few short hours?

Sirius finally snapped out of his disgusted trance. "You probably wandered in, fell asleep, and had a bad dream, Ginny," he consoled. Then his voice turned stern. "Let's get out of here. Molly, if you don't mind, this is one room I'd like to leave as it is; no cleaning or anything."

Vaguely surprised but not about to be told what to do, Molly turned on him, her fists propped on her hips. "And why exactly would that be, Sirius Black?" she demanded crossly.

"Because it was the room of a Dark wizard, Molly," Sirius snapped, his temper flaring immediately. "Who knows what could be lurking in the corners and shadows. It's best to leave it be."

Ginny got up quickly. "But he's not a Death Eater anymore," she protested.

"Of course not," returned Sirius, "he's dead."

"That's not what I meant!" Ginny tried to explain, but Sirius and her mother had already left, arguing about the state of the room as the headed down to the kitchen.

Ginny looked around unhappily, trying to figure out what had happened to the room. "Regulus?" she asked the air quietly. "Are you there?"

When she was finally positive that she would receive no response, Ginny trudged downstairs, her brain working full speed despite the immediateness of her awakening. There was no possible explanation for her encounter the previous night, not if the room was so… so terribly empty, so devoid of life the way it had been that morning. Why did these things always seem to happen to her?

Ginny nearly tripped on the stairs as the portrait of Mrs. Black downstairs started shrieking and Tonks's voice rose above it, apologising to everyone. She caught herself in time and paused to regain her bearings, all thoughts of mysterious disappearing men and their strange rooms chased from her head by the horrid racket.

"JUST SHUT UP, WILL YOU?" Sirius bellowed from somewhere down the next flight of stairs; near the portrait, Ginny assumed. She could hear him yanking on the heavy curtain that surrounded Mrs. Black, trying to hide her from sight and sound.

"FILTHY MUDBLOODS, TRAITORS, YOU HORRIBLE, DISGRACEFUL SON, HOW DARE YOU BRING THOSE _THINGS_ INTO MY HOUSE! WHAT WOULD YOUR FATHER THINK—"

But the noises suddenly ceased, just as Ginny entered the main hallway. She looked around curiously and found that Tonks had, once again, knocked over the umbrella stand. She shook her head and smiled at the clumsy auror.

Tonks, her customary bubblegum pink hair in early-morning disarray, grinned back at Ginny. "Wotcher, Ginny," she greeted enthusiastically. "About breakfast, isn't it? Well, come on, we don't want Molly's food to get cold!"

Ginny skipped down the remaining flight of stairs to the kitchen with Tonks, considerably happier than she had been only five minutes previous. She settled in her chair in the kitchen as Molly put a plate laden with food in front of her and took a big bite.

The ever bushy haired bookworm Hermione stared at Ginny for only a moment before she fired up, as Ginny had known she would. "Where were you?" she demanded. "We were so worried about you, you weren't in your bed when I woke up and it was so early – we couldn't find you anywhere!"

Ginny swallowed the scrambled eggs and took a swig of her orange juice before answering with a carefully thought out speech that would seem innocent enough and that she knew no one could disprove except the man she'd spoken to. "I couldn't sleep, so I went up to see Buckbeak. When I came back there was a door open on the floor Mum's bedroom is on, so I went in for something to do and I must have fell asleep."

"Speaking of which," Sirius said loudly as he entered the kitchen, looking thoroughly harassed, "it would be best if you didn't go in that room again, Ginny."

The girl nodded meekly, knowing why it must have upset him so much.

The day past in a blur. It would be Christmas Eve the next day and everyone was excited. They put the finishing touches on the Christmas tree and the house decorations before everyone bid everyone else a good night and went to bed.

Once again, Ginny found she couldn't sleep. She didn't want to wander, for fear that she might encounter that baffling entity previously known as 'Regulus Black' and now known as 'dead'. For the exact same reason, she wanted to rise from her bed and sneak back upstairs, to find a repeat of last night. Ginny wanted more than anything to solve the mystery that surrounded his existence or lack thereof.

Ginny struggled with herself for a long time, lying in turmoil in her bed. Hermione had long since fallen asleep. The youngest Weasley sat up in bed, glaring over at the mirror placed directly opposite her on the wall.

"What am I, scared?" she sneered at herself quietly, trying to muster up some sort of motivation to get up and move. "There's nothing to be afraid of, if last night is any indication. And even if he isn't there and I really dreamed it all up, what harm is that?"

As she crept out of her room for the second time in as many nights, Ginny knew that the damage his non-existence would cause her would be substantial – it would only help solidify her belief that she was losing her mind.

Up two flights of creaky stairs and passed two doors on the right side of the last real hallway, Ginny stood staring at the door that she would soon enter, if she could muster the courage. She stretched out a trembling hand, staring at the doorknob uncertainly. Her chocolate eyes flicked down the hall and then up it, making sure she was alone. After all, Sirius _had_ said she wasn't to go in there anymore.

Ginny turned the knob.

"Hello, Ginny. Couldn't sleep again?" Regulus's deep voice queried from inside the room.

Ginny sighed, reassured. "No, not really," she answered as she stepped in the room. Regulus was at his desk with a bit of blank parchment in front of him. He looked up at her and smiled.

"I was just writing a friend of mine. Have a seat, I'll be done in a moment," he suggested, motioning vaguely to the bed.

Ginny complied without hesitation. She watched his back as he bent over the paper and scratched at it with his quill. Marvelling at the sense of relief that still hung thick in the air around her, Ginny leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes.

Regulus turned to her and cracked a smile. "Are you tired now?"

Her eyes flew open. "No. Just thinking," she replied quietly.

Regulus nodded. "So what brings you up here tonight, little redhead?"

Ginny grimaced. "First, what happened? This morning the room was so… and you were gone… But now it's just as I remember it was last night!"

"Ginny, Ginny," Regulus said, shaking his head as though she were being incredibly foolish, "I can't have the others knowing I'm here. You shouldn't even know." He fingered his wand somewhat nervously. "I should just erase the memory. But I won't," he said hurriedly as Ginny's eyes widened in fear.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny steadied her nerves. "But… the room…"

"No one would believe there wasn't someone here if the room was clean, would they?" he asked after a slight pause. "I had to do something."

"You worried me. I thought maybe I was right about—" Ginny broke off, fearing she'd said too much.

But Regulus only gave her a wry look and matching smile. "Think you're going insane sometimes?" he asked. "I know that feeling.

Ginny gaped at him. "How… How'd you know?"

After another pause in which Regulus's eyes dropped to the floor, he replied, "It's in your eyes. They're so… broken. Has no one ever told you that before?" He looked up sharply, searching her face.

Ginny shook her head, wonder in her eyes now. "It's like you're reading my mind," she whispered, half afraid. "No, no one's ever said that, but I've often thought as much."

Regulus settled back in his chair. "It's much easier to read emotions in one's own eyes than in others. I can't read minds, unfortunately; I was impossibly inept at Legimency. Not Occlumency, though, otherwise I'd have never lasted as long as I did with Voldemort."

As soon as Ginny recovered from the automatic shudder attack at the sound of Voldemort's name, she looked back into Regulus's face. He seemed amused by her reaction and she glared at him. "What? I'm sure everyone you say that name to has the same reaction."

He was suddenly sober, his face completely serious. "I don't get the chance to say it to most people," he reminded her.

Ginny flinched. "Er… right. Sorry."

Regulus shook his head. "It's alright," he said, the sombre expression dropping in favour of a more cheerful smile. "I suppose it's hard to imagine a life like that when you've got people to talk to."

Ginny looked away, feeling absolutely horrible. She bit her lip and steadied her nerves before turning back to face Regulus. "I… I suppose so…"

"Don't feel bad," he urged. "I understand. You know what you know, not what I know."

"That's right," she agreed shakily. Then she changed the subject back to her original point. "Why can't you let anyone else see you?" she demanded. "Are you saying if Harry or Hermione or one of my brothers wandered in you'd hide from them?"

"Yes."

"But—"

He sighed and shook his head for what seemed to him to be the millionth time that night. "Ginny, can you honestly tell me you think Harry would just let me live here in peace, knowing my status as a Death Eater? Do you really think he believes I ever betrayed Voldemort? And Hermione, I've heard her talking around the house – you can hear everything from in here. She's smart, and not that I'm saying you aren't, but she'd rat me out, run for help or find a way to incapacitate me and drag me downstairs."

"And my brothers?" Ginny asked quietly. "I'll admit that Bill and Charlie wouldn't hesitate to bring you in or even kill you, but Fred and George? Ron? They're harmless."

"Nobody is harmless," Regulus said gently, his eyes soft. "Even you, Ginny. I've placed my life in your hands by trusting you with the secret of my existence. If I do one thing to offend you, you could go running to your mother or Sirius and everything could come crashing down around my ears. If I do one thing wrong, everything I've worked for these past years would be destroyed. I have to be very careful."

Ginny's temper flared. "I wouldn't betray you," she snapped. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"I apologise if I offended you," he murmured quickly.

"It doesn't matter if you offended me!" she hissed.

Regulus looked up at her curiously. "Why don't you say my name?" he asked unexpectedly.

The anger dissipated at a rapid pace and Ginny stared at him, shocked. "What?"

"In the entire night you've never mentioned my name, but I've said yours five times," he answered. "Even last night, all I got out of you was a 'Mr. Black'. I don't understand."

"There… hasn't been a need to – you were counting how many times you said my name?" Ginny asked, disbelief colouring her tone.

Regulus cracked a smile. "When you've been alone as long as I have, you tend to notice strange things."

Ginny fought back a blush; that hadn't been what she meant – she'd been counting as well. But she hadn't realised that she hadn't said his name. "Well, there hasn't been a need to say your name," she said, completing her earlier sentence.

He watched her for another long moment and nodded minutely. "I see," he said wisely. "Well, there's never a need to say one's name in conversation unless their attention strays." He hesitated. "It's just habit, I suppose, being raised in my family and always having to repeat 'My Lord' at the end of every sentence when speaking with Voldemort."

"Sirius doesn't do that," Ginny pointed out.

"Sirius was a rebel among our family," Regulus dismissed. "He didn't exactly agree with our ideals."

"'Our'?" Ginny quoted sourly. "Does that mean you have the same values as your dear old mum down there in that cursed portrait?"

"No, no, not at all," he clarified hurriedly. "I haven't thought like them for a long time. Admittedly, when I was younger and more foolish… But not anymore. I know better."

She watched him suspiciously. "Promise?" she demanded, feeling utterly ridiculous and childish as the words passed her lips.

He seemed to be thinking along the same lines, a mocking smirk playing about his lips. "Swear," he replied anyway. He glanced at his wristwatch. "Maybe you should go to sleep now, Ginny," he suggested.

A wave of exhaustion flowed over her, just as it had the previous night. "I have one more question," she persisted.

"Ask away."

Ginny took a breath and searched for a tolerant tone, at the end of her rope with the man before her. "Where…" she began finally. "Where were you when I woke up?"

Regulus pondered a moment. "I was out," he responded finally. "Searching for a copy of the _Prophet_. I like to keep current."

Ginny nodded. "Okay." She yawned widely. "I suppose I'll go then, I'm exhausted."

"It's no wonder," Regulus murmured gently. "It's nearly one in the morning."

"Is it?" Ginny asked as she got up and stretched. "Well then, happy Christmas."

"Is it?" Regulus asked, surprised.

"Oh, yes. It's December 25, didn't you know?" She yawned and leaned against the door, looking at him through heavy eyelids.

Regulus shook his head. "I wasn't aware. Time really is relative, I suppose."

"Will you be here tonight as well? In case I can't sleep?"

Regulus nodded, smiling slightly. Ginny smiled, satisfied, and turned to leave.

The door was only open a crack when Ginny caught Regulus's last words of the morning. "Happy Christmas, Ginny."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Ginny didn't remember the walk to her room, falling asleep, or indeed anything that happened after that 'Happy Christmas' had registered in her ears. All she knew was that she woke up once again to anxious voices – Hermione's and her mothers – and Sirius growling, sounding very much like he would have liked nothing better than to start yelling.

Her eyes opened slowly. The first thing she noticed that bright Christmas morning was the dusty room, little bits of fuzz floating around in the rays of sunlight drifting lazily through pulled back dark green curtains. More of the ageless dirt had been stirred up by her night time visit. Her friends and Mother were the only other people in the room. Next came the fact that she was lying on that same bed, stretched out, comfortable beneath the warm blankets. She was back in Regulus's room.

Finally Sirius's temper got the better of him. "What do you think you're doing in here, Ginny?" he shouted. "Didn't I tell you to stay out?"

Ginny blinked, confusion setting in. "I don't remember coming in here," she answered honestly. In her head the word _again_ flitted past. "Honestly, after I wandered about for a bit, I thought I'd gone back to my room."

Hermione gazed at her appraisingly, seeing through the half truth, but she said nothing. Molly, on the other hand, looked worried. "Are you having blackouts, dear? Maybe we should go to St. Mungo's and get you checked out…"

"No, no!" Ginny insisted. She was terrified of what they might find wrong with her. "I'm fine. Maybe I was just sleepwalking or something. It won't happen again, promise." She looked around and managed a weak smile. "Happy Christmas, everyone."

The comment sounded so out of place that Sirius was momentarily thrown out of his rage. Hermione stifled a giggle and helped Ginny up. Together, the two of them rushed passed Sirius, who was quickly regaining the furious flush in his cheeks, and down to the kitchen.

"What really happened, Ginny?" Hermione prodded.

"I really don't know," Ginny repeated. "I was up there before, when I couldn't sleep, but I thought I went back to the room. Actually…"

"What?" Hermione prompted eagerly.

"I only remember going out the door," Ginny confessed. "And…" She stopped.

Hermione stopped as well and looked back at Ginny curiously. "And…?"

Making a spur of the moment decision, Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her back upstairs to an unused and still dirty room. She glanced around in the hallway before closing the door as tightly as she could and facing a confused Hermione.

"There was a man in there," Ginny said bluntly. "Last time, too. He claims to be Regulus Black. He was there the night before as well."

"Regulus Black was killed," Hermione protested. "Sirius said so. And even if he wasn't, having a known Death Eater in the house isn't exactly a good thing!" Hermione jumped in realisation and rushed for the door.

Ginny blocked her. "You can't tell anyone, Hermione," she growled. "Promise me. Swear to me right now."

"But Ginny—!"

"He's not dangerous," she whispered urgently. "And he's not a Death Eater. Not anymore. If he was, don't you think he would have killed me for finding him?"

Hermione huffed and glared at her friend. "No, I don't. I think he knows that it would look suspicious if a well-known girl just up an disappeared. I think he knows that it would start a search and that he'd be discovered!"

"He hasn't been discovered yet! I doubt even Dumbledore knows he's here!" Ginny's eyes shone with excitement. "Hermione, really! He's so easy to talk to and he's such a good listener. He's not dangerous." Then her eyes narrowed. "Now swear to me. Swear on… on… on _my_ life that you won't tell anyone."

"Ginny, no, I can't—"

"Hermione, this is important! I can't expose him, I just can't! You _have_ to swear to me!"

Hermione bit her lip. "Alright," she said finally.

"Say it!" Ginny ordered a little harshly.

Hermione broke Ginny's hold on her wrist. "I swear on _your_ life that I won't tell a soul about Regulus," she whispered haltingly.

"Good." Ginny nodded in satisfaction. "Alright. Well, we'd better get back to breakfast before they miss us," she said. Ginny turned her back on Hermione and stalked down to the kitchen.

Hermione remained frozen for a moment longer, staring after her friend, wondering what had overcome Ginny that would cause her to act so severe.

* * *

Ginny was impatient for the day to be over. She shifted in her seat in the drawing room, trying not to look to uncomfortable or anxious while pretending to have a wonderful Christmas with her family. More than once she caught Hermione staring uneasily at her, but she refused to meet the bushy haired girl's gaze.

Finally everyone had thanked everyone else for their gifts. Ginny had gone through the motions of the customary exchanging of words without really paying attention to whom she spoke or what she thanked them for. As people filed out one by one, Ginny attempted a casual exit, forcing herself to walk slowly.

Unfortunately for her, Hermione was determined to get in a word or two before she could sneak off.

"Ginny, I need to talk to you," she hissed in Ginny's ear. She'd followed the redhead out and up a floor to their room.

"Hermione—"

"I'll keep your secret, of course, but that doesn't mean I want you wandering off to see someone who no one else has seen or knows about, a man who's not only supposed to be dead, but a known Death Eater!" She dragged Ginny into their room and shut the door. "I won't have you leaving the room tonight. If that means I have to stay up with you then I will."

Ginny glared at Hermione venomously. "You can't stop me," she challenged.

"Ginny, I'm bigger than you. I could call for your mother or Sirius. Don't tell me I what I can't do." Hermione's tone was stern but her eyes were full of concern.

Ginny collapsed onto her bed in defeat.

Hermione's smug smile nearly sent Ginny into a rage. "I knew you wouldn't want to jeopardise him," she said. Then she sat next to Ginny. "I'm sorry, really. I don't want you mad at me, but I don't want to see you hurt. You don't know anything about him."

"And now I never will," Ginny grumbled into the mattress.

"Sorry," Hermione repeated. "I've got to get a good book. I'll see you tonight." It was both a promise and a warning.

Ginny sat up as soon as the door clicked shut. She hurled her pillow at the wall and was rewarded by a dull thump and a cloud of choking dust. As it settled she slumped over and tried to suppress hot tears of fury that sprung to her chocolate eyes with little success. By the time Hermione returned, Ginny had cried herself to sleep.

* * *

"Good morning, Ginny," Hermione greeted sleepily when Ginny finally opened her eyes. "Thanks for not going anywhere."

"I guess all those semi-sleepless nights finally caught up with me," Ginny said. She stretched out and cocked her head in Hermione's direction. She hesitated a moment longer before speaking again. "Thanks for being so concerned about me, Hermione. I really appreciate it."

Hermione smiled wearily. "I don't want to see you hurt," she repeated. "He could be dangerous." She stifled a yawn.

Ginny laughed. "C'mon. You'll feel better after some breakfast."

But food was just a distraction. Ginny watched Hermione carefully as she slowly consumed the food Molly placed on the table in front of her. She was outwardly as calm as she could possibly be, but inwardly she bounced with the eagerness of a five year old on a sugar rush.

All of Ginny's energies that day went into keeping Hermione awake until it was a reasonable bedtime. By at least four hours past dark, after she had exhausted her last topic of conversation with the girl, everyone else was deep asleep and Hermione was whisked away to dream land the second her head hit the pillow. Ginny grinned; it seemed Hermione didn't have experience with insomnia.

She crept out of her room for the third time and up the two flights of creaky stairs. She paused on each familiar landing to listen for sounds before moving on. She was extra quiet passing her mother's and Sirius's doors and slinking into Regulus's magically immaculate and dimly lit room.

Regulus looked up from a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and smiled. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me," he teased.

Ginny scowled, her anxiousness melting away. "It was only one night," she retorted.

Regulus sighed and gestured for her to take the chair; he lay half propped up by his pillows on his bed. Ginny complied without hesitation. "One day when you said you'd be back," he reminded her. "I think your company has left me susceptible to the loneliness I experienced when I first became reclusive."

"Sorry." Ginny averted her eyes to the floor. "I was detained. I fell asleep. In any case, my friend was up all night reading."

"Which friend?" Regulus asked curiously.

Ginny hesitated. "Hermione."

After a long moment of tense silence, Regulus said, "You told her." He didn't sound angry, just mildly surprised.

Ginny nodded. "She swore on my life that she wouldn't tell," she added hurriedly.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "On _your_ life?" he questioned sceptically.

"Well she would have told if I'd made her swear on anything else," Ginny muttered.

Regulus sat up fully and put the paper down. "Ginny, if you get hurt because of that it'll be on my head. I don't want anyone else hurt because of me."

Ginny closed her eyes and thought. "I won't get hurt," she decided finally. "But don't tell Hermione, that threat is the only thing holding her to her promise."

A wry grin creased his face. "I won't tell." He stared intently out the window. "Well, Christmas is over…" he ventured. He met her eyes again. "How long until you have to go back?"

Startled, Ginny blinked and leaned back against the chair. "Oh, I'd forgotten I had to go back to school…" Regulus chuckled at that. "Um… seven days," she replied quietly. Seven days. Horror swept through Ginny. What would she do at Hogwarts when she couldn't sleep? Who would she talk to? Her heart squeezed painfully and her stomach clenched as her body rejected the idea.

Regulus nodded absently. "Well, only seven days to get to know each other well enough to keep Hermione from saying you don't know anything about me," he said contently. "I'll miss our little chats, though, won't you?"

Ginny nodded numbly then sat bolt upright as his words hit her. "How did you know what Hermione said to me?" she demanded.

"I told you last time," he explained patiently. "I can hear everything in this room. It's always been that way."

Ginny remained rigid as she thought of another question. "How did I get back here? I remember leaving and then when I woke up I was in your bed again."

"You collapsed form exhaustion right after I wished you a happy Christmas." Regulus peered at her curiously. "I knew I couldn't sneak you down to your room so I left you up here."

"You got me in trouble."

"I'm sorry." He sure didn't sound sorry.

Ginny shook her head. "So… getting to know each other, huh?"

"Tell me about yourself, Ginny."

Ginny hesitated again. "Well… I'm the youngest of seven children. I'm the only daughter born to a Weasley in seven generations. I always get the old stuff, being the youngest, and it gets really annoying."

"But what about you personally?" interrupted Regulus. "You know, hopes and dreams, crushes, what annoys you, things like that."

Ginny pondered for a moment. "Well… I suppose I don't know what I want to be. I love quititch and I'm pretty good at it, too. I get good grades, so I guess I could be just about anything. It annoys me when people bully others. I'm dating a Hufflepuff named Michael Corner. He's sweet, I guess, but he's not really what I'm looking for. I…" Ginny blushed and looked away. "I used to have a crush on Harry Potter. For the longest time. I… still do, I guess, but it's not so prominent anymore. At least I can be in the same room as him now without cringing and blushing like an idiot."

"I honestly can't see you doing that," Regulus chuckled.

"Yeah well… I was younger. I've relaxed a whole lot and it really helps. I like being his friend."

"So what's your type, if not Michael Corner?" Regulus prodded.

Ginny blushed again and ducked her head. "I suppose someone interesting who would know when to leave well enough alone and when to come closer. Someone smart and kind and loyal." She laughed somewhat bitterly. "I just want the fairy tale, the Prince Charming. It's ridiculous, I know."

"No," he disagreed. "I think it's smart. You deserve a Prince Charming, Ginny."

"Thanks," she whispered. "What about you? What's your type?"

Regulus regarded her momentarily with calculating eyes. "I had a type once. She was smart and sweet and fragile. She was companionate and wonderful. She had her faults, of course, such as an inane ability to turn up where she shouldn't at exactly the right moment. She was friends with my brother but they bickered constantly. She got on well with my parents and she was always around when I needed her. She gave me her heart and soul, just as I gave her mine." He gave a short, humourless laugh. "She was a terrible Death Eater. But she was always so afraid. I don't think she got out before she died."

Ginny was quiet for a long time. "I'm sorry," she said finally.

"Don't be," he dismissed. "It was a long time ago. My only regret is leaving her to face the world alone." He gazed out the window. "I've been so concentrated on staying alive that I haven't even visited her grave. She died nearly six years ago. Premature death, to be sure. The medical reason was that her heart just stopped beating." He laughed dryly again. "A broken heart." His head dropped into his hands and his next comment was muffled. "It's all my fault."

Ginny got up and sat next to Regulus uncertainly. She patted his back. "You know, we could go to her grave now," she suggested. "We can sneak out the window. I'd just have to go get my cloak…"

"Use one of mine," Regulus suggested. He got up and tossed her a dark green cloak from the wardrobe, removing another for himself. He turned back to her, a faint smile on his lips. "Thanks, Ginny," he said. "I needed that."

"No problem."

* * *

Sneaking out had not been a problem. Now Ginny stood a few feet away from a tombstone in a dark, dank graveyard while Regulus stood motionless right before it, staring blankly. He took out his wand and conjured up some beautiful flowers, which he laid carefully onto the dewy grass. A tear trickling down his cheek lit briefly in the moonlight before he wiped it away on the back of his hand.

Ginny huddled in his warm cloak. The atmosphere around her made her miserable, almost depressed. She could tell it meant a lot to Regulus that she had come with him, though, when he turned and smiled at her.

"Let's go," he said, his deep voice disturbing the eerie silence. "You should be back in bed before anyone wakes."

Ginny agreed hurriedly and was about to start walking back down the street when Regulus stopped her with a hand. "I'll apparate us there," he said. "Not inside, but close enough so we don't have to suffer this infernal chill." He gripped her arm a little tighter, spun a bit, and suddenly Ginny lost all sense of direction.

It was almost like being pushed through a thick, heavy rubber tube. Ginny cringed and tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, which she found just as the feeling disappeared and she discovered she was kneeling on the ground just in front of number 12, Grimmuald place. Regulus smiled secretively and motioned for her to follow him.

Ginny stood on shaky legs and complied. Her stomach told her to stay in one place until it re-mastered itself, but she pushed its concerns aside in favour of the warmth of the old house.

She sighed, gazing up the wall just in time to see Regulus scramble through the window like a cat. She waited patiently until he tossed down a rope that she could use to help herself climb up. The only problem she could see with this arrangement as she methodically placed one foot in front of the other and one hand farther up the rope than before was the biting winter cold and the lack of truly toned muscle; the muscles that weren't required for quititch that she had to use for climbing, that is.

Once she had successfully scaled the wall with Regulus's help and guidance, Ginny paused to regain her breath and bearings.

"Goodnight, Ginny," Regulus said finally. He wasn't even the least bit out of breath. "Thank you. Please don't hesitate to come tomorrow."

"I'll be here if Hermione doesn't stop me," Ginny answered between gulps of air. "Goodnight." She closed to door behind her and crept down the stairs, feeling a familiar exhaustion roll over her. She nearly fell down the last six steps when her eyes fluttered closed, but somehow managed to catch herself and crawl into bed before she let herself be taken by a dark, dreamless sleep.


End file.
